Monument
by Flame Swordmistress
Summary: Oneshot. During a trip to the peaceful Eye of Orion, Rose discovers a painful reminder of just how deep the effects of the Time War went - for everyone. "I think that's the best we could have hoped for in the end..." Ten, with a bit of Nine.


This story was inspired by the Eye of Orion, seen in _The Five Doctors_, and the idea of a small shrine to the Time War there. Most people don't seem to fully grasp the impacts of a war that transcends Time, but the ripples go farther than you might think. So far you might not even notice them.

* * *

Monument

The TARDIS door swung open, allowing a breath of warm air to waft through the entrance. Rose Tyler stepped outside, preparing herself for anything...

…and was met with the scents of a dozen different flowers, all taking their time and riding the breeze. She moved a few paces from the TARDIS, gazing in wonder at the endless sea of wild grasses that blanketed the softly rolling hills. The ship had perched on the top of a tall rise, and a beautiful landscape stretched below. Tall ferns and blooming bushes spread across the ground, interspersed with slight trees of all heights and sprinkled with wildflowers in every colour of the rainbow. Behind her stretched a small wood, and before her - nothing but trees and meadow for as far as the eye could see.

The Doctor stepped out of the police box after her and strolled over to stand at her side, hands in his coat pockets. 'The Eye of Orion,' he named it contentedly, answering her unvoiced question. 'Considered by many to be the most tranquil place in the universe.'

'It's beautiful,' Rose breathed in awe.

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath, inhaling the fresh, clear air. 'Did I promise you a holiday or did I promise you a holiday?'

'You promised me a holiday, all right. Oh, I'm never gonna get used to this.' She ran her hand along the bark of a nearby tree, causing it to release a smell like ripe peaches.

'Oh, I dunno. You seem to me to do all right. Now, this is perhaps the first and only time I'm going to say this, so listen closely. Rose Tyler, feel free to wander off.'

Rose laughed incredulously. 'What?'

'You heard me.' The Doctor's face had split into an amused grin.

'Are you seriously _telling_ me I can go off and get lost or whatever?'

The Doctor shrugged. 'I said "the most tranquil place in the universe" and I meant it. Completely peaceful. Not even you, Miss Barrage Balloon, could manage to get in trouble here.'

'You're gonna eat your words. Five quid says you're gonna eat 'em.'

'We'll see. Go on then, have a look around.'

Rose turned to take in the serene landscape, smiling back at him. 'If you insist.' She grabbed the nearest tree branch and hoisted herself up, climbing straight to the top and drinking in the view. She could see for miles.

Rose tilted her head back and closed her eyes, letting the sun beat down against her face. 'On second thought…maybe I'll hang out here.' She settled back among the branches and stretched out. 'Maybe work on my tan, maybe catch a nap…' She inhaled the warm breeze deeply.

'Up to you. _I_, I think, am going to go for a walk.'

'Yeah sure,' Rose murmured absently from her tree.

The Doctor grinned a little to himself as he turned away and began to stroll off through the reeds. He could leave her to enjoy herself with no worries. There was absolutely nothing that could happen to her here. He trailed a hand along a tree branch. Perhaps he ought to bring her here more often…

The Doctor's legs were moving on their own by now, taking him slowly into the trees. It hadn't been so long, but it felt like a lifetime. Rose was enjoying herself. She was happy.

At least someone was.

The Doctor paused by a group of bright red flowers. He stared at them for a long, long time before silently reaching out and pulling one from the cluster. He cradled it gently in one hand as he walked on, careful not to bend or bruise a single petal.

The Doctor walked for a long time. He was in no hurry. He didn't think about the way – his legs knew it without directions. Perhaps he _should_ bring Rose here more often. Where nothing could happen to her.

At length he drew near to a small clearing. His footsteps slowed as he approached, until he was nearly standing still. To one side of the clearing, noticeable but unobtrusive, stood a small structure of soft metal and wood. The walls were thin but sound, leaving a small empty space in its centre. Vines and plants grew up the sides, intertwining with the design, but natural – decorative – instead of intrusive. The Doctor drew close to it slowly and knelt, placing the single flower at its base. He brushed a finger over the petals for a long moment before he moved to sit a few feet back in the grass.

If he noticed the few, silent tears that fell slowly down his face, he gave no sign.

* * *

Rose stirred in her tree, coming out of a short but very restful doze. She sat up and stretched her muscles, feeling ready to get out and explore her new surroundings. Energy returned, she slid down from her perch and looked about, wondering which direction she should try first. Ah well. When all else failed, there was the standard method of decision-making.

Rose closed her eyes, spun round quickly, counted to three, and stopped. She found herself facing the cosy-looking wood behind the TARDIS and decided that it was as good a place to start as any. She set off in her chosen direction, pausing every so often to examine the various species of plants or animals that she encountered. The wildflowers were even more beautiful up close, and she found herself feeling more and more at ease as she continued deeper into the trees. Before long, a small, grassy path appeared through the undergrowth, and she decided that she might as well see where it went.

The woods became quieter the farther she followed the trail. The rustle of the wind was fainter, the skittering of small animals and lizards was less frequent, and even the birds appeared to call softer back here. By the time she reached the clearing, it was nearly silent.

Perhaps her footsteps in the stillness had alerted the Doctor to her presence, for as she approach the break in the trees, he stood. Solemn and still, the Doctor didn't look up at her, which made her pause. He said nothing.

Rose hesitated, suspecting that she had interrupted him in a place where she wasn't supposed to be. She made to leave, but the Doctor moved first. He turned his back to her without a word and disappeared slowly into the trees.

Rose stood uncertainly at the clearing's edge. A subdued sadness lingered in the place. The air was swirling with it, nearly as tangible as the breeze. Wondering what it was that had evoked such a sadness from him, Rose turned and took in the clearing for the first time.

A small, vine-covered structure rested a few feet away, and she approached it slowly. She had never seen anything like it before, but the design seemed vaguely familiar. A red flower lay at its base, small and lonely. This was something that was made to be shown reverence, she could tell. Feeling like she ought to be respectful, she knelt in front of it, reaching out to touch the soft wood. A slight tingle ran across her skin as her fingers brushed its surface. The space inside the tiny structure glowed with a faint yellow light, the source of which Rose couldn't identify. A faraway hum echoed from within it, and if she listened hard enough, she imagined she could hear it as almost a melody, a shadow of a song.

'I don't know if anyone will ever see this.'

The voice that spoke softly from the air was painfully familiar. She supposed she should have been startled by the quiet northern accent, but after so long in the TARDIS, the disembodied voice of a friend didn't seem to surprise her at all.

'I don't know if it matters. As long as this is here. Most of the universe won't realise it…it may just be a myth. It may not be remembered at all. But…there was a war.'

The harsh edge to his voice that Rose had always associated with the word "war" was gone. It was just soft. Soft and sad. Her throat tightened a bit as she listened.

'A Time War. A battle that twisted the web of Time. Thousands of planets were battlegrounds. Hundreds were devastated. Two…' He paused, and Rose could see him gathering himself. 'Two are gone. As far as much of this universe is concerned, they've never been.'

In the space within the structure, the light appeared to move slightly. Rose thought she could make out two small spheres, one a sickly grey, the other a rusty orange.

'Skaro…and Gallifrey. The planets at the centre of the war. So many people died… Billions upon billions. So many planets. So many species wiped out.' He took a deep breath. 'The Ciarodes of Malchix. The Filicos of Prius Four. The Zemn swarms of the Crab Nebula…'

Rose listened in sadness as the haunted voice listed the names of peoples and planets, all gone. All dead. It wasn't just his people that had been affected, like she'd thought. It was billions. Trillions.

'DerCain. Arcadia…'

The list was crushing. The Doctor had to pause every so often before he could go on.

'The Thals. The Daleks…' She heard him swallow hard. 'The Time Lords.'

Silence.

'And countless others that I can't name. So many died, and most of the Universe will never know. The Time War did just that – it warped Time itself. Thousands of races and planets have had their history changed as a result, so they'll never be aware that anything was ever wrong.'

The voice was quiet. Faraway.

'I think…that's the best we could have hoped for in the end. We fought to protect the universe from destruction. So that people could just go about their lives…be ordinary. So that they could just live. After all the madness and devastation…I think the best thing we could have possibly hoped for was that they didn't remember. What better protection than to never know it happened…'

Rose's hand was at her mouth, and she realised that she was crying.

'But…but they can't be forgotten. Not completely.'

There was something pleading in his voice now. He needed it to be so.

'Too much happened, too many died for them to be gone forever. This stands here as a last reminder of the Time War. Of all those that were lost, the named and the unnamed.' He swallowed again. 'I don't know if anyone will ever see this. I don't think it matters. Let them keep living their lives. It's what we fought for. As long as this stands here…the dead won't be forgotten. They'll stay forever.'

There was a long silence. It seemed that he felt he should go on, but could find nothing left to say. At length, the glow faded. The quiet hum echoed away. The little structure was still.

Rose sat numbly in the grass.

* * *

The Doctor was sitting on the hill near the TARDIS, arms resting on his knees, staring out beyond the horizon. Rose paused in her approach and sat down a short distance from him, giving him some space.

'You listened to it, did you?' he murmured, his gaze never moving.

She nodded numbly, her voice barely a whisper. 'Yeah.'

'I'm sorry.' His voice wasn't much louder, and it bordered on the unsteady. 'I'm sorry you had to hear that.'

She pursed her lips, looking over at the quiet, aching Time Lord. He looked so alone. Rose moved to sit next to him. 'Maybe it's good that somebody did.'

'I've spoiled your holiday, haven't I?' he murmured. 'I promised you a vacation, not a memorial service.'

She shook her head. 'No. You were right, someone ought to have seen it.'

'It didn't have to be you.'

'I'm as good as anybody.'

'No.' He lowered his gaze to the ground. 'You're better.'

Rose turned to face him. 'I'm as good as anybody else. You fought that war for me. For all of us. One of us, at least, ought to know that.' She rested a tender arm around his shoulders, leaning in close to the lonely survivor. 'Now one of us does.'

He allowed her to pull him into a hug. He let her be stronger for once, if only for a few seconds.

The Doctor blinked hard and held her tightly. Her single heart beat against him through her hot human skin, his reminder of _life_. The War had ended far too much of it, but Rose Tyler was his reminder that Life still persisted. That youth and strength and the next generation still had a chance.

Her arms tightened gently. And what a chance. He'd given that chance to them – through all he'd ultimately done, he'd given them the opportunity to survive and grow. That thought and that thought alone made the emptiness in his mind bearable. It was easier to remember when he had a living, breathing reminder nearby.

'You haven't spoiled my holiday,' Rose said softly. 'I just hope I haven't spoiled yours.'

He shook his head, pulling away to look her in the eyes. 'Never,' he told her sincerely. 'If anything, you salvaged mine.'

'You're welcome, then.'

The little smile on her face found itself creeping onto his own as well. He turned his gaze back out to the horizon, Rose following suit.

There was silence between them for a few minutes, until the Doctor leaned in close to her ear.

'You owe me five quid,' he whispered.

Rose giggled and leaned into his side as the warm breeze swept past them, across the tranquil grasses of the Eye of Orion - across one of the thousands of worlds that had been given another chance.

Across the one world that would always remember.


End file.
